


Spin

by worrisomeme



Series: Fall [13]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Master/Slave, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 23:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worrisomeme/pseuds/worrisomeme
Summary: The nausea starts to hit Sebastian just as the limo is pulling up to the red carpet. He’s been to galas and banquets and charity events, but never a red carpet opening, never so happy and proud to stand at his Master’s side (instead of naked on a leash five paces back), so he brushes it off as nerves.





	Spin

**Author's Note:**

> This one was written as a request from ortizshinkaroff on tumblr!!! Warning: there is puking mentioned so if that's something you're sensitive to, skip this one friends<3 Hope you all enjoy it!!!

The nausea starts to hit Sebastian just as the limo is pulling up to the red carpet. He’s been to galas and banquets and charity events, but never a red carpet opening, never so happy and proud to stand at his Master’s side (instead of naked on a leash five paces back), so he brushes it off as nerves. His suit covers the brand on his wrist, but Chris had still bought him a special set of bracelets for the night, thin silver chains and polished clear quartz and other softly colored stones all delicately twisted and twined perfectly to cover that ugly mark he’s started to hate less since it’s brought him to Chris.

Being on the red carpet is the most wonderful, terrifying experience of his life. Chris doesn’t break contact with him the entire walk (no matter how many times he’s stopped for an interview), an arm around his waist, linked with his, even if it’s just their fingers loosely tangled, he never strays too far. He laughs with the interviewers and talks about how much he loves the movie and is just generally the big charming dork that he always is, just slightly more refined in his too-expensive suit. He introduces Sebastian as his fiancé and the subtle collar matching his bracelet introduces him as his sub, but never once does he hear the word ‘slave’ spat or whispered or otherwise.

And still Sebastian’s stomach roils. And still, he blames it on the nerves. This is an awful lot of attention on him, and not the kind he’s used to. These are sophisticated, educated people who actually expect him to hold a conversation with them because now he’s their equal as far as they’re concerned. It’s going to be even worse at the after party, he knows. So, he blames it on the nerves. He lets Chris take the lead as much as he can, but he also knows of Chris’s well-hidden anxiety when it comes to these things, so he tries to adjust to real conversations and the pressure in his stomach and chest until they make it into the theater and he can sit in some much-needed peace as the movie premiers.

The movie is wonderful (thanks to Chris and his music, if you ask Seb) but he has trouble focusing with the nausea starting to bubble further up in his gut. On the limo ride to the after party it gets so bad he thinks he’s going to puke right there in the champaign ice bucket. But he’s done worse, feeling worse, he reminds himself. So, chest tight, head spinning, airways constricting, heart racing, he climbs into Chris’s lap and kisses him softly, plays with his hair and says, “You’re amazing, you know that? I know I don’t tell you enough.”

“You’re amazing too,” Chris replies, reaching a hand up and cupping Seb’s jaw, brushing his thumb along his lower lip. It’s just an affection, with Chris, not a suggestion that will turn into an order if he pretends he doesn’t realize it. And Sebastian can’t help but think about how much that difference in intention means to him.

He kisses the pad of his thumb to tell him as much and leans into the touch. “I love you,” he says, instead of arguing like he still wants to every single time the older man compliments him.

“I love you too,” Chris assures him and leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead, fingers sliding into freshly-cut hair. “You okay?” he asks as he leans back in the seat, his brow furrowing just slightly. “You feel a little warm and your heart’s a little fast.” Two fingers press just slightly more firmly to his neck under his jawline.

“Just all the adrenaline,” Sebastian brushes it off and leans his head on Chris’s chest, hoping that by listening to the other man’s heartbeat his will slow to match it.

Chris kisses his head and wraps his arms around him and lets out a soft hum, sounding entirely unconvinced but letting it go for now.

Sebastian finds out very quickly that Chris had good reason not to be convinced. No more than fifteen minutes into the after party and he’s excusing himself, weaving through the crowd with increasing speed to the bathroom. He barely makes it into the stall and  _definitely_ doesn’t have time to lock it before he’s on his knees violently retching into the toilet. He can’t deny it anymore, something is  _wrong_.

He’s not sure if it’s been five minutes or forty-five but it feels like it’s been days by the time he gets a break, coughing and gasping for breath, cheeks wet with tears. He’s pretty sure he heard one or two people come and go, but who knows. He feels like he’s dying and he’s pretty sure the last time he heaved it was more stomach acid and blood than anything else, he’s sure his stomach is empty by now. He’s draped over the toilet, barely able to keep himself up or conscious at all, when he hears the door open again.

“Sebastian?” Chris asks hesitantly.

But Seb can’t answer because he starts puking again, if it can even be called that anymore.

“Sebastian!” The door flies open and the strain in his voice says Chris is fighting to not shout this time. “Fuck! Jesus,” he mutters, stooping low. His phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear now as one hand gently pulls Sebastian’s sweat-soaked hair out of his face and the other rubs small circles into his lower back.

Sebastian’s vaguely aware of Chris’s voice as he stops puking again and at some point he’s pretty sure an ambulance comes, but everything’s a jumbled mess until he wakes up in a cold, sterile room in a thin, scratchy gown. His throat burns and his mouth is dry and he’s shivering and he starts to panic when he realizes he’s alone. He tries to call out Chris’s name, but nothing comes out.  _Are they not letting Chris see me?_  He thinks. Chris is his  _owner_ still, until their wedding, he thinks, he  _has_ to be here. They can’t do anything to him without Chris’s permission. He’s moments away from full-blown panic when he hears the familiar voice outside the door hospital room door.

He can’t make out what he’s saying, but hearing the familiar timbre allows Seb to relax enough to breathe and try to settle back on the uncomfortable bed.  It would be easier if it wasn’t so  _cold_. Chris’s voice goes silent in the hallway and then the door’s opening and Seb’s eyes snap to where Chris is slipping into the room. He closes the door gently and flashes a tired smile when their eyes meet.

“Hey, you’re finally awake,” Chris says quietly. “How are you feeling baby?” He’s still in his suit from last night, though the jacket is draped across the back of a chair next to the bed. The sun peeking in through the half-open blinds tells Sebastian it’s probably late morning and the bags under Chris’ eyes tells him he didn’t get much sleep, if any at all.

“Bad,” is all Sebastian manages to get out, barely a whisper, his voice hoarse.

“I bet,” Chris says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “By the time we got you here the doctor said you were dehydrated, among other things.” He reaches out to gently brush Seb’s hair out of his face and leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “Your throat’s gonna be sore for a couple days. All that stomach acid really tore it up.”

Sebastian nods weakly and lets his eyes slip shut as a moment of silence stretches on. He can feel his Master’s eyes on him.

“You really had me worried,” Chris scolds gently, breaking the moment. Sebastian’s sure there’s more coming, but maybe he’ll wait until he feels a little better.

“Îmi pare rău,” Seb rasps out, blinking doe eyes up at the older man.

Chris smirks and cocks an eyebrow, taking Sebastian’s hand in his own. “Don’t think for a second that those puppy dog eyes are going to get you out of a firm talking to,” he teases, but squeezes his hand gently.

Sebastian blinks up at him faux-innocently and pouts out his bottom lip, but Chris only half-buys it.

“You were feeling sick all night, weren’t you?” he asks, eyebrows raised, face stern, and Sebastian only sighs softly and nods, giving up the act. “You should have told me, we could have stayed home.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrow slightly and he shakes his head. “This was such a big deal to you,” he manages through the pain. “I never would have forgiven myself if you missed it because of me.” But then Seb’s face falls, a tightness forming in his chest and before Chris can protest he mutters. “I ended up ruining everything anyway. Îmi pare rău, Chris. I’m  _so_ sorry. It was your big night and I ruined it.” His gaze shifts down toward their hands, unable to look his Master in the eye at the realization, at the guilt.

“Hey, hey,” Chris says, his free hand coming up to Seb’s chin, gently forcing it up. His tone is firm but loving as he says, “You didn’t ruin anything, okay? The premier was great – or as great as such a stressful thing can be. I just wish now that you had been feeling well enough to really enjoy it.”

“It wasn’t _too_ bad until the ride to the after party,” Sebastian whispers, his gaze dropping again as his hands fidget in his lap.

“By your standards, that’s not saying much,” Chris calls him on his bullshit. He climbs into the hospital bed and gently pulls Seb into his arms, pressing a chaste kiss behind his ear. “You remember when I had the accident? And you were so scared you literally wouldn’t leave my side for weeks?”

Sebastian’s cheeks flush and he hides his face in Chris’s chest. “No,” he pouts. “I remember no such thing.”

“Uh huh,” Chris teases him, that skeptical edge never leaving his tone as he strokes his fiancé’s hair back out of his face. “The doctor said you were _dangerously_ dehydrated by the time they got to you. When the ambulance showed up you were just dry-heaving blood, basically. You could’ve done serious damage or…” The words won’t leave his lips and Sebastian feels his slight trembling.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian whispers, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and leaving soft kisses there. “I’m sorry that I worried you and that I didn’t tell you I wasn’t feeling well.”

Chris huffs out a quiet laugh and kisses the top of his head. “Just don’t do it again, huh?” he says, nuzzling into the younger man’s hair. “I’ll make it an order if I have to, a rule.”

“You don’t have to,” Sebastian assures him, fingers tangling in his disheveled dress shirt. “I love you so much Chris.”

“Good,” Chris breathes on a sigh, exhaustion finally hitting him. “I love you so much too. The doctor will be in to check on you soon and then we’ll get you home, okay?” But Seb barely hears him because he’s already nodding back off himself, safe now in his Master’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading and for everyone who loves this series so much!!!
> 
> Comments, kudos, and the like mean the world to me. I really don't even have the words to properly describe how much it means<3
> 
> And, last but not least, as always, you can find me on [tumblr](http://worrisomeme.tumblr.com) where I am not super active but you can always send me messages and asks even when I'm not posting. Feel free to send requests/prompts/etc or we can just chat!!<3 <3 <3


End file.
